


guard your shins (like guard your heart)

by carrot_garden



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Football | Soccer, Portland Thorns, Slow Burn, eventually, it's a soccer au what else can i say, kinda slow burn, specifically the 2019 women's world cup because that was the highlight of my life, they also go to the world cup, they both play for the portland thorns because that's perfect imo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrot_garden/pseuds/carrot_garden
Summary: It takes exactly 10 minutes of practice for Jamie to decide she hates Dani Clayton.She hates her stupid socks pulled up to her knees.She hates the tape that sits under her shins.Most of all she hates how easy it is for her to fall into place when she’s had to work for years to become properly integrated.or: Dani transfers to the team that Jamie plays for in a World Cup year and Jamie hates the whole situation.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 38
Kudos: 82





	1. i was looking for something brand new

**chapter one: i was looking for something brand new.**

  
  


Jamie had been partially aware of Dani Clayton ever since they’d crossed paths in France. She would have had to have been completely oblivious to the world of women’s soccer to not notice the  _ American  _ that had skipped college to go play overseas. 

Her time in France had been short lived. Lyon had been the change she’d needed coming straight out of the academy but she’d never intended it to be a long term move. Get signed to a club, cement herself as one of the best centre-backs in Europe and then move onto a new challenge. She’d never been one to put down roots anyway.

The last season she spent with OL gained her another Division One title but with that came the feeling that she was missing out. She’d seen how other players had come in and thrived under the pressure of playing for the most successful club in the league but she’d just didn’t get the chance. Peter Fucking Quint had scuppered any opportunity that she’d had to grow. 

Portland, she’d found, was like a breath of fresh air. 

Who the hell would’ve known that Oregon, of all places, would be the place that Jamie felt most at home in years. Nearly 5,000 miles away from where she’d started this journey.

So Portland, Jamie thinks, is where she’d settle for now.

* * *

She’s 10 minutes away from the first official training session of the new season and she’s running late. The new quarter zip training top and a pair of her old Nike football boots - she  _ refused  _ to call them cleats even after 3 years of living stateside - sat in the footwell of her passenger seat. Jamie wasn’t one for organisation, never had been despite appearances. She was going to be late. Again. 

Even after all these years of early morning starts and rigorous training regimes. Even after wrestling her way into a starting position, she still found a way to be late to everything.

Just a pre-season tradition by this point, she mused.

Something, she already knew, that she would have to change if she wanted any chance of wearing the captain’s armband this season.

She arrives at the centre a mere 15 minutes behind schedule, hastily making her way through the parking lot with a bottle of gatorade and a banana in hand. She sees Owen in the distance and reminds herself how lucky she is that he came in to take over the Thorns. 

  
  
  


* * *

Dani Clayton knew what she wanted from a team. 

She knew her play style, she knew her own strengths. 

She also knew she needed to leave France as soon as she could. 

When she got the call from Owen Sharma, newly appointed manager, Dani Clayton knew she needed to move to Portland.

It takes her an immense amount of effort to not show up an hour early and seem like the most keen soccer player on the planet. She was, however, decisively prepared. Her ability to turn up and know exactly what she needed to do was one that Dani had always taken a great deal of satisfaction in. 

With her cleats, shin pads and sock tape placed neatly into her bag, she swiftly exits the comfort of her car, making her way towards the training centre. She greets the receptionist with a warm smile and the feeling that she made the right decision.

Portland, Dani thinks, is a place she’s glad to call home.

* * *

  
  


Warming up is sacred time for Jamie. One that she would usually carry out in complete silence, preferring to only start speaking as soon as she’s finished stretching. Dani, on the other hand, is clearly eager to make a good first impression.

“Jamie Taylor, right?” she hears as she’s finishing up her first round of warm up stretches.

“Clayton.” Jamie grunts back, brow already furrowed at the concept of someone  _ new _ interrupting her, mid-routine. 

Dani pauses, taken aback by her response, the tone of it out of sorts for what she’d been expecting.

‘Are you excited for the new season?’ she tries again, willing to chalk it up to her own first day jitters.

Jamie cocks her head, brow furrowing impossibly further. “I don’t want to be rude Clayton but I really don’t like people interrupting, nothing personal, I just have a way of doing things.”

“I, uh---” Dani splutters, scrambling for a way to leave that doesn’t draw attention to the inordinate amount of embarrassment she feels, “Okay.”

She glances, quickly to her right finding someone else,  _ anyone else _ , to talk to instead of Jamie Taylor.

* * *

It takes exactly 10 minutes of practice for Jamie to decide she hates Dani Clayton. 

She hates her stupid socks pulled up to her knees.

She hates the tape that sits under her shins.

Most of all she hates how easy it is for her to fall into place when she’s had to work for years to become properly integrated.

It becomes particularly apparent, when they separate out into position based drills, that Dani Clayton is going to become the bane of her existence this year. They’re put onto opposing teams consisting of all their fellow defending players, Dani getting first pick of who she wanted to be with. “First day niceties” Owen had called it. Jamie thinks it’s bullshit. Thinks they should be randomly assigned teams like they usually are. She thinks that Dani Clayton is going to become the favourite without having to lift a finger.

Jamie vows that from now on she is going to work ten times harder than she ever has. She knows that World Cup years always bring out the best in her work ethic anyway but this year, this year was going to be different. 

Keep the ball. Simple. That’s all she had to do. All that their team of well rounded, experienced defenders, had to do. But for all it’s simplicity in theory, Jamie’s half of the defence could not even get the ball to begin with. Pass after pass goes astray. Their marking positioning is all wrong. To make matters worse, Clayton is breezing through. Slotting straight into the team as if she’s been there all her life. 

“What’s going on ladies?” she hears Owen shout from the sideline, “You’re acting as if you’ve never worked with each other before.”

He makes his way over to Jamie, adjusting his glasses so they’re sitting right. 

“You alright?”

“I––” she starts.

“Not that you’d have to share it with me if there was,” he clarifies. “You just seem off today Jamie and we both know how crucial this season is.”

“Just pre-season jitters, I guess,” she replies, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

Owen’s right, Jamie concludes. She’s playing like shit. The usual connection she has with Menges and Westphal just isn’t there. Fuck, even her usual banter with Lindsey from across the training pitch is missing completely. She’s off her game completely. It’s embarrassing. 

They take a water break despite only playing for all of twenty minutes. Sipping the gatorade assigned to her, Jamie takes a deep breath and tries to refocus all of her built up energy into her game and before she knows it, they’re back to three on three scenarios. 

This time she’s with a new group, Owen deciding it’s best to mix them up to create a better dynamic than their last attempt. She notices Dani Clayton, or rather she notices the distinct lack of that midwestern accent, is absent from this set of six.

This time she’s feeling more at home. Feeling more comfortable in her own skin, ball at her feet. 

Taking command, she naturally positions herself in the centre of the small area that’s been coned off. She plays a quick one-two, looking to take it around the oncoming opposition. The ball moves as if it’s made to be at her feet, the in-between-seasons cobwebs finally starting to shed. Her footwork finally starting to feel on par with where she left it last season. 

She sees Owen in her periphery, giving a slight nod as she takes it around one person and lays it off to her teammate. He gives her a subtle thumbs up, almost as if to say I told you so. 

It’s an easy relationship they have. As manager and player, Jamie and Owen are always on the same wavelength. He knows what helps her the most, even if it’s just a ridiculously timed pun. It must help, Jamie thinks, that he’s one of the few English people she’s friendly with whilst surrounded by a sea of nasally Americans. She knows exactly what Owen expects, she knows that Owen will have her back no matter what, she knows that Owen Sharma is one of the best things to ever happen to the Portland Thorns.

After a few more successful runs, Jamie’s group gathers with the rest of the squad to see if they’ll be scrimmaging today. It’s a Thorns tradition to spend at least a portion of the first session back in a simulated 11 aside game, and this season is no different.

“Jamie take one team, Dani take the other. Let’s see if the newbie can give Jamie a run for her money,” Owen says, winking at Jamie.

It’s unsettling to Jamie how easily Dani has taken to this role of team captain, even if it’s only for a scrimmage. They, of course, take turns picking their fellow teammates but Dani seems like she’s made for this. Maybe it’s the part of France that Jamie never got to experience, weighed down by Quint and his shite managerial efforts. But Dani takes to this easily, joking with AD and Sinc whilst handing out training bibs like they’ve known each other all their lives. 

The scrimmage starts like any other. Jamie barking orders at the forwards straight from kick off, Dani staying quiet but still exuding confidence in a wordless manner.

Building out from the back is something Owen always encourages, so it’s no surprise to Jamie when she’s passed the ball straight from the get go. She takes the ball casually, almost as if it’s an extension of her left foot. It only takes a quick glance up and down the left flank for her to see a black Thorns shirt free and with a quick fast paced lob, Jamie’s team are already one nil up.

Jamie takes a quick look over at where Dani is left standing, giving orders out to her fellow teammates, seemingly confused at how quickly Jamie’s team were able to put themselves on the front foot. 

It only takes a few minutes for them to retaliate. A set piece, something that Jamie always prides herself on. She’s telling Pogarch where to stand when she sees the blonde running to make it into the box. 

Jamie easily collects the fast paced delivery and turns on the spot with her mind already focused on the counter. 

Next thing she knows, she’s on the ground. Stopped in her tracks. The number seven shirt filling her vision. Of-fucking-course. Who else would it be?

“What the  _ fuck  _ was that Clayton?” 


	2. tied the laces back behind my shoes

**chapter two: tied the laces back behind my shoes**

There’s something to be said about the way that Jamie Taylor rises to her feet. It’s a thing that Dani has to admire, even if she’s the one who caused her to fall in the first place.

Jamie’s up on her feet before anyone else can get to her, the anger on her face palpable. Dani can’t take her eyes off her, surmising that it’s just general concern. She’s mad. She’s mad at her. She’s mad at her and she can’t help but feel slightly guilty.

“I-- Uh--” She clambers for an excuse, it’s only a practice scrimmage, only her first day there and she shouldn’t have done that. She knows she shouldn’t have done that. But Jamie was looking so cocky, so sure of her own skill set. Something deep within Dani needed to wipe that smugness from her face the easiest way she knew how. 

Set pieces, something Dani prided herself on, her ability to turn a measly corner into a goal scoring opportunity. Dani never fouled. Never made clinical errors that resulted in opponents on the ground. Never received more than 10 yellow cards in her entire career. It’s something that was instilled in her in Paris. Especially not during a practice scrimmage of all things.

But something about Jamie Taylor, the infamous number thirteen centre back, brought it out of her. 

Jamie’s spouting off curses, each one lobbed in Dani’s direction. And the worst thing is, she doesn’t even have an excuse, not one she’s willing to share anyway.

“It’s out of order is what it is,” Jamie’s still going, adjusting her near non-existent shin pads back to their normal position. “She’s got no right turning up here and almost wiping me out for the season, what if I’d landed the wrong way? What if I’d torn something? She needs to get a bloody grip.”

They’re all valid points. 

They’re all valid points and Dani should feel awful. Should feel like she could’ve caused a season changing injury. Should feel the way Jamie is trying to make her feel, this rise that she’s trying to get out of her. 

But Dani just feels angry too. Furious in fact. Completely provoked by the way that Jamie is treating her. Has treated her since this first warmup. The way she’s speaking about her as if she’s not even there. And yeah, realistically she knows that it must be hard for Jamie, someone who plays the same position as her, who arguably has had more development than her. That it must be hard for her to think about a new person infiltrating the team she has given so much to. But Dani doesn’t care, it’s to be expected, she thinks, new people are always going to be around, it's soccer for fucks sake. Every moment is fleeting. Can’t be taken for granted. It’s what happens. 

It takes Owen shouting her name, several times, for her to stop thinking about Jamie’s _resilience_. 

“Okay, I’m calling it a day, grab your stuff and be more prepared for next session,’ Owen addresses the squad, ‘Dani, can I have a word?’

As the majority of the team make their way to the locker room, Dani shifts to the sidelines. She catches Jamie’s eye as she makes her way off the field. A look that she doesn’t quite recognise sits on her face but Dani dismisses it quickly in order to concentrate on Owen’s voice.

He says what she expects, “Dani, that’s fine during matches but scrimmages, please don’t try and injure my best player, yeah?” He’s well within reason but Dani can’t help but feel sour about the whole situation.

* * *

The next training session, Dani is determined to be better. 

She’s always been determined, everyone knows that. But something about the way she left things the other day has been weighing heavy on her mind and that’s given her an even bigger push to be the best. To prove that Owen hadn’t made the wrong decision in bringing her here.

A text from Sinc earlier in the week told her that today was the day of the beep test. A drill she loved but everyone else hated. It was something that Dani thrived on. The rapid pace of trying to complete as many rounds as possible, the adrenaline that came with outrunning your teammates. She’s never felt more alive, more at home, than when she’s doing a beep test. 

Jamie also knew that the beep test was upcoming, with it being a staple pre-season drill. If she was a betting woman, she’d put money on her coming first. It usually happens. In fact, she can’t remember the last time she wasn’t the last one left. 

It starts like any normal training session. Pre session chatter with the team and coaches then straight into warm ups. 

Owen announces the beep test with his usual combination of humour and earnestness.

It goes like this: Dani keeps her eyes on Jamie all the way through the first couple of rounds. 

It also goes like this: Jamie keeps her eyes on Dani all the way through the first couple of rounds.

Jamie reckons it’s because she’s her direct competitor. Another centre back, competing for the exact same spot as her. She knows that Portland has other options, knows that Owen could see things differently, even if she’s proven herself season after season.

One by one, they start to drop out. The goalkeepers first, which is to be expected, then a few other defenders, then some strikers till only a few remain. Owen and the other staff members, all the while, still cheering them on from the sidelines. 

An athletics trainer, who she valued dearly, once told her to pick an opponent to compete against, she’d said ‘It doesn’t have to be the fastest on the team, it doesn’t have to be the best on the team, it just has to be someone you would give everything to beat.’

Dani Clayton, this time, was that person for Jamie.

Matching each other stride for stride since level one. Both making the first eight levels without too much stress or exertion. 

Lindsey drops out and that leaves just the two of them. Dani can hear shouts from the sideline, managing to block most of them out - too scared to face the fact that no one might be rooting for her.

Jamie is focused. Perhaps maybe the most focused she’s ever been. It’s round ten now and both of them seem to be struggling, barely having time to even blink before the next beep sounds. 

Dani has to give up soon, Jamie thinks, no way can she sustain this for any longer than two more rounds.

They’re beginning to tire. Even Owen begins to notice it, trying to determine whether it’s better to let them continue or to call it off before someone gets hurt.

The monotone voice rings out over the speaker announcing round eleven.

Dani’s legs are starting to give out. Mentally, she knows she’s capable. Knows she could take on anyone at this pace but her body is starting to disagree.

Jamie, however, is showing no signs of stopping. (Dani keeps glancing at her in her periphery.) 

That’s what gives Dani the edge though. The sight of her biggest competitor not tiring. It gives her the strength she needs.

Jamie stops at the next monotone announcement. Technically, she knows she’s excelled. She’s beaten her own personal record, something that should be celebrated in it’s own right but all she can think about, whilst she’s doubled over trying to regain some semblance of a regular breathing pattern, is that Dani sodding Clayton beat her. 

Dani completes one more set of shuttle sprints, just because she can, almost running flat out every time, and then she calls it a day.

She sees Lindsey patting Jamie on the back, giving her a well done speech. When she leaves, she takes the chance to approach Jamie, trying, yet again, to make a better impression. She reaches out her hand in order to shake Jamie’s, despite the fact that they’re both exhausted.

“Nice stamina,” she comments, genuinely meaning it.

Jamie just looks at her, as she turns bright red, realising what she’d just said, still bent double trying to come down from eleven rounds of non stop shuttle running.

It takes all of Dani’s will power and restraint to not go even redder at Jamie’s refusal to shake her hand, she’s sure it’s just because Jamie is too exhausted to even consider it.

Owen bounds over to where they’re both stood, offering them a hearty congratulations and a pat on the back for each of them - which Jamie takes with a scoff and a muttered “Thanks gaffer.”

As soon as they’re dismissed they make their way to the ice baths, not making any conversation instead consciously choosing to ignore the other. 

They still haven’t spoken properly since Dani knocked Jamie flat on her ass.

It helps, Jamie thinks, that the rest of the team are in the ice baths too. It takes out some of the awkwardness that she feels having been bested at something she loves.

She’s back to breathing at a somewhat regular pace and chooses to engage in talking with the rest of the team in lieu of having to talk to Dani.

It also helps, Jamie thinks, that she’s always been able to endure the coldest of ice baths. Always been able to outlast even the hardiest of players. There’s something about them that she finds extremely relaxing, maybe it’s the way they help bring her back from the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that if she concentrates for long enough she’s able to escape all of her thoughts and just focus on recovery. 

But yet again, Dani Clayton is able to make something she adores into a competition.

It goes unspoken, of course, but she knows when Dani looks at every woman who leaves the ice bath before her, she knows that it’s one of those unsaid things. That Dani Clayton is making a mental note of who doesn’t take recovery as seriously as she does. So it goes without saying that Jamie is _beyond_ determined to outlast Dani in at least this. 

They end up making that awkward eye contact. The one that neither of them one wants. 

Dani concedes first, thinking she owes at least this to Jamie, she did in fact make her hit the deck so hard, after all. She can take it as yet another apology for that. And she also just beat her at her own game, so yes, she does in fact owe this much to Jamie, she thinks.

So Dani gets out first. 

She’s wiping off all the excess ice from her body when she hears Jamie, the quietest she’s ever heard her (besides during her warm up routines), mutter a simple “Good job out there Clayton.”

Dani just nods, too frozen (from the ice bath of course) to do anything else.

She leaves Jamie sitting in the ice, wondering how long she’ll be left alone with her own thoughts.

  
  


* * *

She knows she has a lot to prove in her first game. The Royals should be easy opponents, she knows that from all of her scouting of teams in the league. But she also knows that she’s one of the best defenders in the league. If she was feeling brave, she’d even go as far to say in the world.

Something about The Royals is special. She knows that they have a certain something about them that makes teams underestimate their capabilities. But not Dani.

She is more than thrilled to find out that she’s starting their first game. She is, however, the complete opposite to find out she’s starting alongside Jamie. It’s not that she dislikes her. She thinks the number thirteen is talented. Beyond skilled if she’s honest. It’s just that Jamie doesn’t like her. Dani doesn’t know what she did, doesn’t know how to stop her from glaring at her from across the field. Isn’t quite talented enough at knowing people yet - especially here in Portland - to know how to change her opinion.

The week of the first game is one of the most daunting in her life. She’d thought with the amount of painstaking preparation and extra training sessions, that she’d be ready for whatever was thrown her way. She had not, however, factored in the nerves she was feeling and the unresolved amount of tension it brought with it.

* * *

For Jamie, a game against the Royals is an opportunity she relishes. Not only does it give her the chance to play a game against a team she thrives against but it also allows her to see Rebecca.

Rebecca Jessel had very quickly become Utah’s star striker.

Outside of match days though, she was one of Jamie’s closest friends. Someone who’d seen what Jamie’s Lyon days had brought. She’d seen her at her worst, her most fragile. 

Jamie is more than excited to face the Royals. And with that brings an unrelenting amount of energy to burn. Something she can only fix by channeling it into extra workout sessions. 

So that’s what she does. Gets up at the crack of dawn, sneaks out of the house. Finds her way into the training centre just before 6am. Using the time it takes to get there to listen to calming music - something she’s always done on game week. Her playlist, consisting of only her favourite artists, on repeat up until Saturday. She thinks she’ll head to the weight room and get in some lifting before the real club run session starts. 

She signs in at the reception, the club preferring to monitor the routines of their athletes, and, with gym bag in hand, heads down to the gym. 

It’s about as fully equipped as it could be, no expense spared for the club with the highest average attendance. Yet another reason Jamie valued Portland, their belief in the team, in the players. Jamie had never felt more at home than she did right now, surrounded by red and black themed gym equipment and Thorns logo decals of varying sizes adorning the walls.

She starts light, choosing to do a little bit of cardio before she does any lifting, jumping on the treadmill. It’s going well, she feels fit. Much fitter than she did this time last season anyway. 

She’s about halfway through her quick warm up run when she barely registers the door opening, too in the zone to check who’s joining her in the gym. Too engrossed in the way her heart is pumping to notice that Dani Clayton, kitted head to toe in Thorns gear, has entered the room.

She hears the clack of the dumbbells hitting the rack and that’s what finally gets her to peer over her shoulder. It’s unmistakable, the blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, stray hairs gathered in place by that unmissable aqua blue pre-wrap headband. 

Jamie has no clue why she’s here. In fact, one of the main reasons she didn’t just go for a run was because she knew the gym would be empty. No one in their right mind (besides her obviously) would optionally spend extra hours lifting on game week. Even if they did, there shouldn’t be anyone here at 6am of all times. 

But yet, here she was. 

Jamie looks her way again, this time making eye contact. They nod their heads in greeting, both purposely choosing not to verbally acknowledge each other.

Going about her routine is entirely too easy, Jamie thinks. Almost like Dani can telepathically tell what station she’s going to next. She seems to finish her reps just as Jamie is about to move on. Both dancing around each other like they’d planned it. 

Before she knows it, an hour has passed. An hour filled with sideways glances and eyes skirting around the room, desperate to not make eye contact.

It goes like this: as Jamie walks out, she offers her the smallest of smiles and the softest “See you at the game Clayton,” that Dani has ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh i hope you all enjoy this next installment into what i've taken to calling woso damie. they make my heart melt and i'm so excited for you all to see what i have in store for these little fuckers and their avoidance of their problems. 
> 
> once again i would like to give the biggest of thank you's to the best bestie a person could ask for, obsetress, for helping me to iron out the small details that really make JT13 and DC7 and for making me simultaneously scream and cry on the daily about these silly little lesbians. i cannot thank her enough for her continued ability to not only put up with my stupid little ideas but for her continuing, unwavering support in whatever i do. 
> 
> a huge thank you to the wonderful, fantastic yearinla for reading through this and pointing out the finer details that needed changing, i love you and everything you do, and i admire your ability to continuously endure our constant blathering about damie when you're trying to watch sports. 
> 
> also the she believes was a ride huh? i am already missing international soccer (football to be more precise but oh well)


	3. could be the weather, could be the state i'm in

**chapter three: could be the weather, could be the state i’m in**

  
  


Away games are games that Jamie spends a lot of her time thinking about. The build up is always something she appreciates, the push and pull of the intensity of training. The way everyone around her gears up in a way that they don’t usually in the off-season. It's something she relishes. Revels in it, in fact. 

Whether it’s travelling to the next state over or across the world in order to play for the country, Jamie just enjoys it. She’s always been one for movement, in multiple aspects, and it’s probably part of why she was so drawn to football, amongst many other reasons. It’s the ebb and flow of coming and going. She finds it peaceful, always has done. 

There’s something special, though, about travelling with the Thorns, she’d come to realise. It’s the first team - not including the Lionesses, of course - that she’s found her groove when it comes to pregame preparation. She’s fortunate that she has a great friendship with her bus buddy (a term she fucking hates, it’s just so  _ American _ ), fortunate that they all know her well enough to leave her alone when she needs it but fortunate enough that they can tell when she needs to mindlessly banter with someone. It’s yet another reason to add to the ever growing list of reasons she owes this peak in her career to them. She’s intimately familiar with the opposite feeling. Has plenty of first hand experience with irreconcilable differences. 

So it’s games like this one, the first of the new season, the first in a season she knows will be career defining, that motivate her like nothing else. 

She tackles the day of travelling like she would anything else. A firm routine. Something she knows well enough to do in her sleep. Which, as it turns out, is partially true. 

Her alarm rings out like a whistle right at 4am. 

It’s an early start. Even for her. It comes off the back of an intense training session the day prior so she’s feeling it more than usual, despite the fact that she’d done all her recovery steps. 

She’s grabbing a bagel, a poppy seed bagel, and she’s out the door. Her suitcase, already packed and in the boot of her car. Ready to head to the airport.

* * *

The airport’s empty. No-one else with a good enough reason to be there she assumes.

Her bag of documents sat in her right hand, waiting to be checked over by the airport staff. 

Thankfully it’s only a small flight. Just under two hours total. Portland to Salt Lake.

Being up 35,000 feet in the air is comforting to Jamie. The constant drone of the plane's engine like a white noise machine, helping her to feel secure. It’s the persistent murmur of people having conversations, the way she’s surrounded by people but still has enough room to focus entirely on the weekend ahead. 

It’s entirely her time. Her time to prepare.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Getting on the bus always feels like the first real precursor to the game. The first time that Jamie feels the team coming together, like really coming together, for the first time this season.

It’s all fun and smiles and inside jokes. It’s all light hearted and exhilaration and electrifying. It’s also shrouded in a resolute competition. One that never seems to leave no matter how many times she makes these trips.

Getting on the bus is something, like many other things, that she has a fixed routine for. Left foot onto the bus first. Always left foot first. She’s not a superstitious person usually. She’ll walk under ladders, she’d put new shoes on the table. She’s JT _ 13 _ for god's sake. But something about stepping onto the bus left foot first was ingrained deep into her mind.

She’s walking down the aisle of the bus, scanning the seats to see who’s sat with who, see if any of the bus buddies have changed. Trying to imagine the reasons why anyone would change. She’s laughing at some silly tea based pun that Owen had let slip as she’d passed her, just about to get to her seat, when she sees who’s sat in front of her. Clayton. Of course she is.

They’d been getting along better. Well, marginally. By that, Jamie means they haven’t rugby tackled each other to the ground again. Jamie had gained a bit of respect for her since the beep test but something about her still irritated her. She still wound Jamie up to no end. 

It’s a quick glance that they share. None of the nods of greeting or smiles that she shared with her other team mates. She’s content with that though. She didn’t need any of that with Dani, she figures that the competition between them will drive her to become the centre back with no questions asked.

Jamie slides into her seat next to Horan. Like she has done for the last year and a half. They’ve grown to know what the other needs. Which is more than Jamie could ever ask for in a person. More than she deserves if she’s brutally honest. But it’s how they’ve come to be. Sitting in silence, both listening to the Spotify playlist, with some super stupid, exttra long name that Lindsey insisted on calling it. 

They’re about an hour into the journey when Jamie turns fully in her seat to turn and look at her. 

Lindsey just looks up, takes out an earbud and raises an eyebrow. 

Jamie’s eyebrows are doing that furrowing thing that they always do, Lindsey notes. She’s trying not to laugh, it’s just that Jamie has that look on her face. The one where she thinks she’s about to say something really funny but only to her.

“What?” Jamie asks, feigning annoyance at Lindsey’s barely concealed smirk.

“You’re the one who turned around Taylor!”  Already knowing that Jamie has some wisecrack on the tip of her tongue. 

“Linds, do you know what I’m looking forward to this year?” She asks, knowing that Lindsey knows the answer of course but she’s just letting the question hang in the air for a little while. Waiting for Lindsey to finally break. 

She takes a long breath, almost as if to prepare herself for whatever Jamie’s about to say. It’s something she’s done a lot, she knows the sway of these conversations, the little back and forth between them that Jamie likes.

“Oh I don’t know Jamie, maybe getting knocked off your feet by Clayton a couple more times?” Lindsey shoots back, a few of their surrounding teammates trying to stifle their laughter.

Jamie scowls, quick to remember the feeling of hitting the deck that hard by a newcomer. 

“No.” She says quickly, “No, I was thinking of something else to be honest.” 

Lindsey feigns a sigh, “Go on Jamie, I know you’re dying to say whatever it is.”

“Well mate,” she starts, grin ridiculously wide already, “ I am looking forward to kicking your arse at the world cup.” Out of the corner of her eye she sees a quick flip of a ponytail.

If Lindsey didn’t know Jamie Taylor as well as she does, she’d audibly guffaw. Would automatically react negatively to someone boasting in this way. 

But she does know Jamie. Has gotten to know her quite well, in fact. Knows precisely what makes Jamie tick and therefore knows exactly what reaction Jamie is wanting. And Lindsey’s bored. She imagines so is Jamie. They’ve been sitting on the bus for an hour already. Trying to make their way to the hotel.

“We’re in the same group and everything this year. Extra opportunities to nutmeg you on the pitch, hey Linds?” She continues, all the while that classic Jamie Taylor smirk growing bigger and bigger.

Lindsey just laughs, “Alright Jamie, whatever you say, I just hope you know,” she pauses to shake her head and laugh a little more, “that I’m not gonna celebrate any less,  _ when _ we win, just because you’re one of my friends.” 

Jamie’s laughing along, it’s their classic banter, the kind that they’ve developed after 3 years of knowing each other as well as they do. It’s how they do things, take the piss out of one another.

She’s still laughing along when she hears the rustle of someone moving up out of their seat. 

That telltale blonde hair peeking over the seat. 

“I don’t think that’s funny.” Dani’s frowning, her eyebrows drawn together, looking between Jamie and Lindsey.

“Oh come on Clayton, lighten up a bit.” Lindsey’s quick to respond, already knowing that any more tension between Dani and Jamie would be more than a disaster for this upcoming game.

“No I- I just, I just don’t think you guys should be joking about this kind of stuff.”

Jamie just looks at her, it’s not that she disagrees completely. If truth be told, if anyone besides Lindsey had said that to her, she’d be more than vexed. She’d be more than pissed off. But she wasn’t talking to Dani. She wasn’t even thinking about her. 

“Yeah? You got a problem with that Clayton?” 

And that shuts her up, Jamie thinks. It’s abrupt, a sudden retraction of the hostility that Dani had been expressing. Something, that if Jamie is completely honest, she’s proud of.

Dani sits back down, uncomfortable with the sudden attention they’ve drawn to themselves. She’s a little perplexed with how close Lindsey and Jamie are. She’s known Horan for years, often being in the same US training camps, usually playing for the same junior teams. But they’ve never been close. Never ran in the same circles for the national team. And yet here she is, joking about their world cup retention challenge this summer. It’s something that’s upset her and Dani isn’t quite able to understand why. It’s quite familiar with this feeling. Doesn’t quite know how she’d explain it.

So she goes back to sitting in her own seat, listening to her own music.

This is what Jamie knows: they need to work together. They need to be an unstoppable force if the Thorns are going to even contest the title this year.

This is what Jamie also knows: that doesn’t mean it needs to transfer off the pitch.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It’s late in the evening when they finally get settled in the hotel. Too late for the coffee date she had planned with Becs. Too late for her to do anything that resembles even an ounce of productivity. 

They’d had the usual team meeting when they’d first arrived, Owen giving his usual rundown of what’s expected from them. It’s the first one that Dani’s experienced. The first one that the Portland Thorns as a team have received. But Jamie’s used to them. She’d experienced more than enough of them whilst playing for England. So many, in fact, that she could mouth certain sentences that he pulls out of his back pocket everytime. 

They go to dinner afterwards, it’s the usual catering team, the usual pre-game meals for each of them. Everyone eats in comfortable silence, all too tired to make any real kind of conversation.

Jamie’s made a mental list of the things she needs to do in the couple of days they’ve got ahead of them. It’s a little scattered between professional events and personal things she wants to get done whilst she’s in Utah. 

But it’s too late in the evening now to get any of that done. So she’s resigned to her room. The one she shares with Lindsey.

When she enters the room, Horan just looks at her. She knows her well enough to know that a barrage of questions are going to be lobbed her way.

“Drop it Linds, I just want to go to sleep,” she starts before Lindsey can even begin. 

From the tone of it, Lindsey knows to leave it. To not bring it up again until Jamie does herself. 

And with that they both go about their own personal night time routines and head to bed, barely uttering a quiet “Goodnight.” as they do.

* * *

They’re given a tiny amount of free time for them to do whatever they want the next day. Jamie spends it with Rebecca.

She’s walking into their usual cafe when she sees her for the first time in months. She catches Rebecca’s eye and she makes her way over to the table, where her order is already waiting for her. 

That’s the one thing about Rebecca Jessel that Jamie values above everything. She knows Jamie. Really knows her. Probably knows her better than anyone else in the world.

They hug in greeting, months of not seeing each other due to preseason and sponsor commitments making Jamie soft.

“How’ve you been Jamie?” It’s a loaded question, she’s heard things about her preseason. Rebecca knows all about how hard Jamie’s been working, really she could have predicted it this year.

“Oh you know, the usual, getting by,” she replies, taking a small sip of her coffee. 

“Yeah?” she smiles as Jamie nods.

Their small talk continues whilst they drink their coffees, knowing that any talk of the weekend's upcoming game is off limits. 

It’s nice. There’s a sense of calmness and serenity Jamie doesn’t often experience. She can always count on Becs to bring her back down to earth.

She leaves the place with a smile on her face and the distinct feeling that the Thorns are going to wipe the floor with the Royals on Saturday.

* * *

The day between seeing Rebecca and the game is over in the blink of an eye. 

It’s like breathing for Jamie, something she doesn’t even have to put thought into anymore, this buildup the day before.

She’s got a pregame press conference before kickoff. It comes with the honour of being named captain for the game. She’s thrilled that Owen’s trusted her enough with the armband. Even more thrilled when she sees Dani’s eyebrows raise to the roof when he announces it.

She’s prepped. Ready for the questions from the press. Already knows what subjects are going to come up.

She’s on her way to the conference room, a Thorns hoodie being pulled over her head, taking her time to look at all the framed accomplishments on the walls of the Rio Tinto Stadium. 

The press and the cameras are something she’s grown used to over the past few years. Playing for the Lionesses had ensured that. And with the NWSL being how it is, she’s seeing familiar faces once she gets in there. The whole host of usual reporters.

She’s sitting down in the seat, just in front of the sponsor wall and before she knows it she’s combating the usual questions, how does she think this season’s going to go? How have they prepared differently this season? 

She answers every one like she’s supposed to. The calm manner of a player with masses of expertise and experience. It’s why she’s so sidetracked when she gets hit with a question about Clayton.

It’s worded in a way that Jamie doesn’t quite feel is professional. It’s like they’re trying to make it clear that it was Dani herself that they wanted to talk to, not her. 

“I think that Clayton- Well I uh- I think that you should ask her really. If you want an honest answer.” She’s quick to distract, deflect away from the topic of Dani Clayton. It’s not really one she wants to deal with at the minute. Would much rather focus on her own game. Her own time. 

It’s why she’s quick to make a joke about Owen and move the conversation along. 

It’s why, when she leaves the conference room, she doesn’t spend a single second longer than necessary thinking about Dani Clayton’s game plan than she needs to.

It’s why, when she’s entering the locker room, she’s definitely not thinking about the way she wants to make it clear that she’s the one they should be asking about.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy howdy howdy! okay first of all, i'd like to say sorry for the update time being a little longer than in between the first two chapters! but!! here it is!! it's a little (nearly 2x) longer than i originally intended (and to let you in on another secret, i didn't even get through what i wanted to plot wise)
> 
> but !! i hope you enjoyed !!
> 
> would once again like to say a huge thank you to obsetress for her continuing, unwavering support which drives me to finish this little thought that i had and i hope that our best bestie vibes continue forever. ily
> 
> oh !! i also would like to add that if y'all want to yell at me about anything you can find me on tumblr as cowboycarrot (and several other social medias by extension auihesifushef)
> 
> n e way, hope yall enjoyed what is primarily just a jamie chapter!
> 
> oh also also, i was thinking that after this story is complete (don't worry it's all mapped out!!) that it could maybe evolve into some smaller one shots? who knows! just sharing my thoughts and feelins!

**Author's Note:**

> this idea is brought to you by the fact that i cannot stop thinking about how dani clayton would look in uswnt warm up gear (that blue y'all)
> 
> thank you to obsetress for going absolutely feral with me over the concept and helping me to figure out the most important details, like what number dani and jamie wear and if they have their stupid socks low on their ankles or halfway up their thighs (and also for encouraging me to actually write something for the first time)


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